Chapter 12: The Reaper

Jaxale

Jaxale sat in silence as the others talked. He had listened to what Imp said and found himself confused on more then one occasion.

Jaxale glanced around the room, looking at each person until his eyes landed on Imp. Imp had finished reading the journal out loud and was peering intently at one of the pages, his lips moving with, what jaxale could only guess was the words Talengar had written so long ago. With a small sigh, having came to the conclusion they all assumed he would just know what they spoke of, Jaxale stood up and left the room.

He wondered the strange tower for a while, lost in thought and pondering the information he had been given. He wasn't the brightest out of his companions but he wasn't stupid either. He had listen with great care and gradually started to piece things over in his mind.

Jaxale hadn't been in this world for long, only been present for a few months at most, but during his time here he had learned a lot about those who claimed to be the heros. Grodak was a foolish king who sought-after peace in the world yet he wouldn't interfere with others as long as they didn't involve him or his kingdom. Imp was smart, a methodical genius who had learned most of the world's secrets but never spoke of them.

From what Jaxale had gathered, Adrian was just a foolish human, but a brave one who fought for his beliefs and those he cared about. Tyril was more of an ancient king, one who took great care in his actions. Cassandra, the very thought of her chilled Jaxale to his core and he pushed it away.

There was one enigma out of the group, however and that was Grall. Jaxale had first assumed he was nothing more then a pompous God who looked down on others, that was until he found out that he was once mortal. To further Jaxales confusion, he had heard that Grall seeks out death on the daily basis, wanting nothing more then to be with.... his wife? Mother?.... A woman. He wants to die to be with a woman.

Jaxale had heard so many tales of each of them and their heroic acts, but the only person who's stories never stayed straight was Gralls. He knew Grall is Grodaks brother, Grall being the younger of the two, and that he was for sure a God. Beyond that, he could only surmise that he lost a loved one, was banished for some reason, cursed by the Gods, and has tried to die more times then there are grains of sand in the desert.

Comparing all of that to what Imp had said, it wouldn't be surprising, at least to Jaxale, if Grall turned out to be this Reaper Imp spoke of. "Then again," Jaxale said stopping at a window, staring down at the ground, "I do not know who this Marek is."

Grall

Grall walked out of the cave, having just returned to the present, thinking about what Talengar had told him. He had been adopted by Talengar, he and his brother, and the grief of losing his wife, or maybe it was the grief of killing his brother for even Talengar was not sure which was which, drove him to madness. This madness caused him to be killed either by his brother or children, possibly nieces and nephews.

Grall had tried to understand the conversation to the best of his knowledge but found himself lacking. It was like a riddle that had multiple answers, none of them being the right answer. If he had been the one to go mad after losing his wife, then why is it he has yet to lose his mind? Even the Source had said he would go into madness and seek out death at the loss of his wife in previous lives.

What made this life so much different? Was it the Shadow World? The banishment that was inflicted upon him that led to him meeting his wife?

Grall sighed, he could not discern any answers from these questions right now, but he made a mental note to come back to them. As he did so, he noticed he had walked into a peculiar area. Fog surrounded him, thick enough that even with true sight, he was rendered blind.

Grall shook his head, disappointed in himself. How could he let his mind wonder so much that he got lost in an unknown area?

Grall raised his hand, about to open a pathway to the Shadow World when he heard a roar, the roar of a dragon. Grall paused for a moment, smiling.

"Perfect." Grall said as his hands moved to his one handed swords. "I have been wanting to test these blades out since Grodak gifted them to me. This will be the best way to do so."

Imp

Imp had discussed the matter of Marik with the group for a long length of time, never truly coming to an agreement. Most present had thought The Reaper to be something that had plagued the last cycle and wouldn't reappear. Others took this into consideration and looked to be planning a way around it.

The one thing they all agreed on was the resurrection of Marik. They all knew without a doubt that his resurrection would mean trouble, Reaper or no. They spoke briefly of searching for his body, killing those who seek to resurrect him along the way, but they trashed the idea. They had no clue where to begin to look and no way to find him.

Imp had attempted to use his magic to locate Mariks corpse but found that his way was blocked. Searching by foot would take up too much time, time they could spend readying theirselves for his eventual resurrection.

After several hours passed of debates, arguments, and, at one point, a barely avoided brawl, they decided to end it here. Each going their own way to prepare for Mariks return.

Imp sat back at his desk, exhausted from the meeting he had thought would be quick and easy. He began to take a sip of his tea when he noticed Jaxale walking into his office.

Surprised, Imp looked to Dorothy who had been the one to send all others home. "I had thought everyone was sent away." Imp said to Dorothy who seemed to blush under her metallic features.

"Where would you send me?" Jaxale asked, his voice carried a kind of confusion in it.

Imp gave Jaxale a look of confusion. "I gave you a house in Ethernal, did I not?"

"You did," Jaxale replied, "but I do not wish to be turned into a meal for others."

Imps eyes narrowed in confusion before widening in understanding. "What happened to Ethernal while I was away?"

Jaxale shrugged, he hadn't stayed long enough to see everything play out. "From what I know," Jaxale said, his eyes stared out the window as Dronde flew past, "the food suddenly spoiled when you disappeared, then everyone started to fight over food and some even started to eat the dead."

Imp stared at Jaxale in disgust. "They became cannibals just because my magic no longer kept the food fresh?"

Jaxale shrugged, not knowing what else to say. "I need to see this for myself." Imp said as he pushed past Jaxale and Dorothy. Imp cast his spell of teleportation as he walked, appearing seconds later in front of the city of Ethernal.

As Imp stepped on the land in front of the gates, he found himself surrounded by both the Dasari and the Pyroniams. They weren't there for Imp, however. They had came for war.

Grislo

Grislo raised his sword, letting out his war cry, he was sure it would bring fear to the hearts of the enemy. Grislo was apart of a company of mercenary, most orcs, like himself, would not be caught dead with a group that was known to sale their honor. This group, to Grislos surprise, was different. They only fought for what they saw was a honorable task and turned down those who would abuse their talents.

Grislo had came upon these mercenaries by accident one day. He was sent by Grodak, chieftain of the tribes, to protect a group of traders who were sent to fitch supplies for the newly reformed kingdom of Whitewater. Along the way, they had been attacked several times, leaving Grislo as the only surviving orc.

Badly wounded, Grislo had fought to the point of exhaustion. That was when the mercenaries showed up. They saved Grislos life and to repay them for their kindness, Grislo had agreed to fight alongside them until his dept was paid.

That was five years ago, Grislo now fights alongside the mercenaries, not to repay his debt, but to protect those who cannot protect theirselves. Grislo and the band had been hired by a merchant to track down a group who had bought some of his wares and get them back. Grislo didn't like the idea of accepting this job, but the leader of the mercenaries had informed him that if they didn't take the job, someone else would and they wouldn't let them "slip" pass them.

Grislo nodded his head, he had known the leader to sometimes pretend to take up jobs just to protect the innocent. Always coming up with reasons as to why they would sometimes get away.

This was different, however, the group they had been hired to follow weren't so innocent. In their midst stood several vampires, at least two of them were lords, and three wraiths. Grislo brought his sword down to cut one of the vampires but paused as he felt a sharp pain between his breast. Grislo looked down to find a fur covered arm sticking out of his chest. The arm of the white Tabaxi vampire lord.

His strength failed him as his sword fell from his limp hand and darkness over took his senses. When he opened his eyes, he found himself in a gray area, other orcs walking around him heading from place to place without recognition.

Grislo knew where he was and shook with fear. The white Tabaxi had killed him and now his soul lingered in the Shadow World. The same Shadow World that was controlled and ruled by the detestable Grall, the banished chieftain.

Grislo grunted in annoyance as he stood up, peering at his surroundings. He had heard the Shadow World was a prison for the orcs, who he heard it from remained a mystery to him. He had feared death for the longest time, not because of pain or even the unknown, he knew what awaited him, or at least he thought he did.

He had expected yells of pain, the sounds of whips, and the cackle of tormentors to echo through the ashen area at any moment. To Grislos surprise, none of that came. Instead the sounds of training and story telling sounded came to his ears as he walked the Shadow World.

The tormentor, Grislo thought, must be Grall, who is apparently not here.

As Grislo began to prepare his mind for whatever torment awaited him, an armored figured appeared before him, ripping pieces of armor off of his body and throwing them to the side. Grislo stared at the new arrival, who kept the helm on, covering his facial features. He was an orc, Grislo could guess as much from the color of his skin where blotches seemed to be melting away.

Grislo slowly back away from the stranger, drawing his sword. He had decided that if this was the orc he thought it was, he wouldn't go down without a fight.

As he stepped away, he felt a hard body press against his back. Turning around, he raised his sword expecting to find a guard of some kind. His sword dropped, as he stared shocked to see the orc that now stood in front of him.

Wreag, an orc who, in his life, was believed to be the reincarnation of Talengar himself. Many had known that Talengars last act, just before the Casarn managed to take his head, was to cast a spell that allowed his soul to be reincarnated. Some had thought Wreag had possibly cast the same spell before his death at the hands of Marik and the one that was born from the spell was the great and powerful Grodak.

"Do not be afraid, young soul." Wreag said, his eyes seemed to linger on the orc that stood before them. "That is Grall, chieftain of none and the protector of the Shadow World."

"Protector?" Grislo asked in confusion, his voice low so that Grall wouldn't notice his presence. "How can the banished chieftain, the one who brought shame to the orc race, be the protector of their resting place?"

Wreags eyes darted down to look the much shorter orc, Grislo in the eyes. Grislo felt that the eyes that stared at him were those of anger, malicious, or maybe contempt. Wreags eyes lingered on Grislo for mere seconds, though it felt like hours to Grislo, before returning to Grall who seemed to be talking to some specters who appeared before him.

"He became the guardian of the Shadow World at birth," Wreag said, he appeared to be listening to Gralls conversation as he spoke, "no matter what he does, we cannot and will not take the responsibility that the source placed upon him away."

"B-but doesn't he torture those in the Shadow World?" Grislo asked his voice rising and a crowd began to appear. "Isn't that why you fight by his side even though this should be the place we rest?"

The crowd seemed to find this funny as laughter began to echo through them. Wreag, however, did not find Grislos accusations humorous. It appeared to Grislo that Wreag was trying to restraint himself from something.

"He has never forced anyone to do something they did not want to do." Wreag said, anger pulsated from his voice, his eyes went back to Grislo and narrowed in anger. "He is a true warrior who made a mistake. Looking back on the situation, I see that it was not him who made the mistake, rather us."

"We had been the ones to order him to dispose of the tribe," Wreag continued, the anger in his voice softening with each word, "we told him it mattered little how he did so, as long as they were disposed of. Other chieftains would have charged head first into battle but he wished for his tribe to live."

Wreag let out a heavy sigh, as if he was finally getting something that had bothered him off of his chest. "Grall had acted as a leader should, he made sure no one from his tribe was harmed and even did as we had asked. I'll admit, at first I was appalled by the method he used, however, Grodak has used methods that are far worse for the sake of his kingdom."

"How?" Grislo asked as Grall began to pick up the pieces of his armor that he had previously thrown around carelessly. "How has Grodak done something that is worse then Gralls underhandedness?"

"He uses magic." Wreag spoke bluntly, not wanting to drag this out any longer then it already had been. "Regardless if he knows he is using it or not, he uses the most underhanded method an orc could."

Grislo stared at Wreag in disbelief, his eyes darted from Wreag to the group of orcs that surrounded them, but they all shared the same look. They all had a look of disgust and nodded their heads.

"Why..." Grislos words faltered, he quickly cleared his throat and wet his lips. "Why are you allowing him to be chieftain then?"

"For the same reason I am now regretting banishing my own grandchild from the tribe." Wreag said his eyes followed Grall as he opened what appeared to be a pathway to a pond. "He is only doing what he must to protect his people."

Grall

Grall waded into the pond, the icy water that bit at his flesh felt cool on his wounds. He grumbled to himself in anger, he had not expected the dragon to breath out acidic particles that could get under his armor. He knew the moment the dragons foul breath struck him, the Shadow World would not be able to heal him.

In his desperation, he threw himself into the Shadow World and summoned the souls of the greatest minds to have lived. They had informed him that cold water, a pure source that remained untainted by salt or chemicals would neutralize the reaction and even boost his natural healing.

Grall didn't stay in the water for long, though. He never liked being in cold water and preferred it to be warm. Grall climbed out of the pond and began to dress himself, taking in his surroundings as he did so.

He was standing in a clearing, obviously magical for it was the only place for miles that wasn't a desert. A single tree stood near the pond, its limbs wavered in the warm breeze that sent chills down Gralls spine. To his left, he noticed what appeared to be a kingdom, an army standing at the either side of the gate.

Curious to find a kingdom in the desert, especially after finding out that all kingdoms, save for Whitewater, was destroyed when Milindar attacked, Grall decided to go have a look. He had heard from Fluffles that Imp had built a kingdom that was a twelve day walk, four by horse back, away. He wondered if this was the kingdom and if so, why were they at war.

As Grall finished strapping his swords on, his armor already being strapped on, Grall set out for the army. As he approached, the wind picked up and a tornado appeared. Many of the opposing army started to flee, Grall paid them no mind, his eyes catching sight of something else that had infuriated him.

Grall, with great difficulty, made his way through the winds. The strong winds smacked Grall around, trying to either pull him into the air or push him onto the ground. Anger, unlike what he felt before, filled him as the storm finally succeeded in doing what it wanted and pulled him off the ground.

Grall pulled out his two handed sword and with a shout, swung it with all his might, cutting through the magic that was used to create it. As the magic connection was severed, the sword being the reason, Grall approached the surprised Imp who stood at the gates.

Without saying a word, Grall slammed his knuckles against Imps jaw, knocking him to the ground. Grall could've continued, the mage seemed weak now, stronger then what he was but weak none the less. Grall stood there contemplating if he should just continue to beat him until he was on the verge of death just to teach him a lesson for fooling everyone into believing he was dead.

Imp began to rise as Grall pushed those thoughts to the side, and looked Grall in the eyes. Blood dribbled out of the side of his mouth where Gralls knuckles had cut it.

"Its nice to see you too, Grall." Imp said, his voice sounded weak with pain.

"Cut the bullshit," Grall said as he helped Imp to his feet, "that was for Grodak. When you faked your death-"

"Faked?" Imp said with a chuckle, interrupting Grall. "I did not fake my death. I was killed in that cave and only saved thanks to Dorothy who had created this body for me."

Gralls eyes narrowed at Imp, he didnt believe the Dasari. If what he said was true then why does he look the same.

"Look the same?" Imp said in disbelief after Grall voiced his concern. "What are you talking about? My beautiful blue scales are now white."

"I know the difference between colors, Imp." Grall growled, his eyes didn't leave imp for a second.

"I don't know what to tell... you..." Imp paused for a moment and stared at Gralls eyes. He hadnt noticed it last time he saw Grall but he now found himself wondering how this blind orc is able to see at all.

Grall, who was in the process of reading Imps movements, smiled. "The elders took my eyes and replaced them with true sight." He answered Imps unspoken question.

"So thats it." Imp said in fascination, he had read about true sight, even found that orcs were the only race to have ever been gifted it. "So what you see is what lays below the magic. You see my soul and not my body. Interesting."

Grall grunted in disgust as Imp looked upon him as if he was a lab experiment. "Keep looking at me like that and I'll do more then give you a busted lip, Dasari."

"My apologies, Grall," Imp bowed in a manner to say that he meant it, "however, I must remind you that you still owe me a great deal. I was the one who, after great efforts, found the God of deaths God gem. The same God gem that you stole to become the God of death."

"How I see it," Grall rebuked, "is the world owes me. If I had left the gem with you, the damn God would still be alive, trying to end this cycle."

Imp remained quiet for a moment, as if he just realized that Grall didnt know something that he knew. "The God of death cannot end the cycle, Grall." Imp spoke slowly, as if he was speaking to a child. "Only the one known as-"

"The Reaper." Grall spoke the name with disdain, wondering why as soon as he figured out what The Reaper was, Imp somehow knew of him.

"That is correct." Imp said as he eyed Grall curiously, this was the first time they were ever on the same page. Equals in knowledge, or so Imp had assumed. "How did you know?"

Grall shrugged and began to turn away from Imp only to find his way blocked. Grall turned his head back to Imp and reached for his sword, only to find his weapons gone.

"How do you know of something that is only spoken of in Talengars book?" Imp said, his eyes flared with magic, he was prepared to end Grall if he didn't get a satisfying answer.

"I spoke to the Source." Grall answered unwillingly, he wouldn't have answered and originally intended not to, though the thought of having to fight everyone he knew wasn't on his list of things to do. "Will, he spoke, i just stood there in awe. He spoke just one sentence, a sentence that had sent me searching for answers."

"And that sentence is?" Imp spoke with impatience, but his voice died as he realized what sentence would cause Grall, a God in all rights, to chase after the answer.

"Beware, The Reaper is near."